


Talk to me

by Cliophilyra



Series: September Smut 2015 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, september smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4822982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are apart and Dean is bored in his motel room. Phone sex pwp basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk to me

**Author's Note:**

> For September Smut challenge. Not beta-ed and written on my phone so please forgive any formatting/spelling cock ups!

The rain is lashing down outside the motel room, the wind rattles the windows and wet leaves flurry and swirl in the parking lot which is rapidly becoming a swimming pool. 

Dean is lying on his back on the narrow bed with its slightly garish yellow cover, trying to focus on the TV. The weather is distracting, the roof and walls of the place are so thin that it's like being inside a drum as the rain pounds down. He's pretty sure it's only a matter of time before it comes through the cracks in the plaster.

He has seen this episode of Doctor Sexy a million times but there was nothing else on. 

He's on his own, Sam is back at the bunker, still not 100% but he's getting better. He really didn't want to leave him but Cas is there, he'll call if there's a problem. They'll be fine. 

Cas lives with them now; that's something that's new. Also, he and Dean are sleeping together; which is even newer.

He stares at the crappy motel TV, flickering under the onslaught of the weather and he finds himself thinking about Cas. About chapped, pink lips and brilliant blue eyes that see into his soul, about the fear of new humanity, frustration at what he can't do, confusion over what he has to do. 

He's not helpless, he might not be an angel anymore but he's still a soldier. He learns fast, adapts readily, he watched people for millennia - in practical ways he knows what to expect. The reality of it sometimes gets to him though, Dean can see it in his eyes sometimes. He is in mourning for himself.

Dean misses him. He misses the feeling of those chapped lips against his, or trailing over his stomach, wrapped around his cock. Fingers twisting in feather soft hair, soft sounds and the smell of warmth and apple shampoo.

Before he's really aware of it he has dialled Cas number, cradling the phone against his ear with his shoulder. 

Cas answers on the second ring, "Hello Dean," He sounds happy, Dean can hear the gummy smile in his voice, he smiles back. "Hey baby, how's it going?"

"It's fine, Sam seems to be doing well. I cooked dinner which was...educational. I miss you."

Dean laughs, "I miss you too. What did you cook?"

"Well I tried to make burgers, they were ok but not as good as yours. They were somewhat over cooked I think.It was a practice really - I wanted to make them for you when you get back."

Dean feels his heart swell at the idea of Cas making something for him, "Aw thanks Cas, I would love that. I can give you some pointers when I get back, ok?"

"Yes. When will you be back?"

"Hopefully tomorrow, I'll be pretty late though. I know what I'm dealing with now, should be a pretty easy one."

There is silence for a moment, then, "Be careful," he can hear in his voice the way he doesn't want to say it. Cas knows Dean can look after himself but his new appreciation of mortality combined with...whatever it is they have, forces the words out.

"Always am," he lies with a smile. Except it's not so much of a lie now; now all he thinks about is making it back to Cas in one piece.

"I really wish you were here," Cas says, sounding slightly petulant in a way that makes Dean smile. "I miss you and that means I keep thinking about you and when I think about you I want to have sex with you but you're not here so I can't. It's extremely frustrating."

Dean groans a little, feeling his pants getting tighter, "Oh fuck Cas, you can't just say things like that! It's not fair."

"No its not fair at all. It's true though. I try to imagine what it would be like if you were here but I just can't. Imagination is a difficult thing to get used to."

"What are you doing now?" Dean asks, dropping his voice into a lower register almost unconsciously.

"Lying on our bed talking to you."

"Ok, what are you wearing?" Dean asks, feeling faintly silly until the rough voice replies, "Nothing, I was thinking about..." Cas trails off, uncharacteristically shy. 

Dean bites his lip hard, imagining the smooth, hard planes of Cas's body, golden skin, soft hair. He imagines him with his eyes closed, fist loosely wrapped around himself, flush of pink creeping over his chest as he tries to bring to mind the memory of Dean's touch.

"Fuck Cas, I need to be there. I want you so bad, want to taste you, touch you...fuck!" He drops his head back in frustration, the need for Cas is like a physical pain. He thumbs open the buttons of his jeans and shoves a hand inside, rubbing his aching cock, moaning at the friction. 

He hears an answering moan, breathless and dark in his ear.

"Are you touching yourself baby?" He asks, at first all he hears in reply is a ragged groan.

"I want you here Dean. I want to be there, I miss being able to come when you call." Cas's voice is wrecked, he sounds like he might cry with frustration. "I want your cock in my mouth Dean. I want to feel you come down my throat."

Dean tightens his grip on his cock, eyes closed as he strokes himself faster. In his minds eye he sees Cas looking up at him through fanned lashes. Reddened, spit slick lips stretched around his cock. "Fuck me Cas...love how you look when you suck me off, your mouth feels so fucking amazing."

Cas sighs, "This is so hard Dean, I want to touch you. I want to fuck you."

"Yeah baby, I know. I want that too, can't wait to feel you inside me again." Dean's hand moves faster, he knows he's not going to last, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.

Especially when he hears Cas panting in his ear, the sound so near he can almost imagine that he feels his warm breath against his skin.

"Touch yourself for me Cas, I want to hear you come."

There is a deep groan and Cas answers in that deep, desperate voice, "I want you to make me come Dean. When I touch myself it makes me think of you. Of how you feel, how you sound, how you look when you come. You're so beautiful Dean." 

Dean's hand is a blur now, he feels the memory of Cas tongue sliding against his, breath ghosting on his neck, licking over his pulse as he buries himself in Dean. The stretch and burn, Cas's fingers digging in to his hips, grasping his ass, reaching down to take his hard, dripping cock in his hand and stroke it in time with his thrusts. Sparks flying in Dean's head as he nails his prostate, making him moan his name, clutch at his back, nails dragging, legs wrapped around him, head back, back arched, coming hard over his stomach with a cry. The feeling of Cas's movements stuttering, breath catching and head falling to the crook of his shoulder as he comes inside him. 

His vision goes white as he comes hard over his fist, through the buzzing in his ears he hears Cas's breath catch down the phone, hears him cry out, "Dean!" as he comes too.

There is silence for a moment while they catch their breath, panting distorted to harsh white noise by the phone line. 

"Fuck! Cas." He exclaims eventually, on the edge of hysterical laughter as he drags his hand from his sensitive cock and drops his clean hand over his eyes. 

He hears a huff of static that could also be laughter. "Indeed." Cas agrees, sounding sluggish and wrung out. "When did you say you'd be back?"

Dean smiles, running his hand through his hair while looking for something to clean himself up with, propping himself on shaky arms, "Soon. Really, really soon babe. I'll be there before you know it."

"I love you Dean." He sounds sleepy, voice heavy and thick.

"Love you too Cas. Sleep well angel."

"Hmmm," there is a soft murmur of agreement and a click and the line is dead. Dean grins as he lies back again listening to the rain that is still bombarding the building. It has, he notices, already breached the barrier of the thin roof, there is a small, spreading wet patch on the carpet where it drips from around the ceiling fan. 

He drags himself up, cleans himself up in the bathroom. When he comes out he takes off his clothes, puts a waste paper bin under the drip and gets into the bed. 

Tomorrow is going to be the longest day ever.


End file.
